


Breath

by majoreave



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Other tags to be added, more relationships will show up as well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 15:41:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10834278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/majoreave/pseuds/majoreave
Summary: The hunt for the Reaper comes to a head with a little help along the way. Soldier: 76, formerly known as Strike-Commander Jack Morrison, has his work cut out for him. A motley crew of misfits and mercenaries show up along the way, throwing wrenches (and some explosives) into carefully constructed plans. The most difficult challenge — the loss of a life he once lived — becomes the most haunting part of his new, weary life.





	Breath

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing an Overwatch fic and, like most of my other fics, I do better with chaptered, long works. There will be other relationships that show up along the way, more characters you know and love, and even a series of other fics that will tie into this one planned.
> 
> Work inspired (and written to) "Breath" by Breaking Benjamin. Give it a listen; I highly recommend it.

“Damn you, Jack!”

The rough voice screamed over and over. Clawed digits tightened into fists, digging roughly into palms, piercing and drawing blackened blood. Howls of frustration, betrayal, rage, defeat, all rolled into one bounced off the concrete walls of the abandoned sewer tunnel.

Beneath Prague, buried behind red tape and poverty was the perfect hiding spot. Discreet, away from prying eyes, and never questioned by the local police force, the vigilante formerly known as Jack Morrison and ace sniper Ana Amari could stake their claim.

They’d found him.

“He’s too loud, Jack,” Ana spoke with a hush, eye darting to look at the stone archways leading further down beneath the city. “What if someone comes looking?”

“They won’t,” Jack grunted, visored gaze peering back into the room.

No one bothered in a city like Prague. Too much death and decay already.

“And if they do?”

“They won’t, Ana. I made sure of it.”

Because no one was looking, not yet. They’d covered their tracks well, hiding behind the thin veil of courtesy and money-bought silence.

“They’ll come for you! They’ll kill you! I’LL KILL YOU!” The voice screamed again, a guttural sound unnatural to the senses. It made Jack’s skin crawl beneath the leather of his jacket. All of it rubbed wrong against his sense of righteousness and justice. But those were the old rules, and he didn’t play by them anymore.

If Gabriel Reyes was right about one thing, it was rules only got in the way.

“Help me with him,” Jack asked, turning the brightness of his visor on Ana.

“Jack, I’m not cut out for this,” she said with contempt. “That is why I do my job from so far away.”

“I know, but this is important. I can’t do this alone.”

“Jack..”

“Please, Ana.”

The begging in his voice, the way he said it and what he said, it only ever made sense to Ana. She’d been there for the falling out, for the tension building and arguments heating up the longer Overwatch went on. When they finally shut down the organization everything collided. Jack and Gabriel tore each other to pieces. She wasn’t there for that, but she’d seen it. The shame and anguish everyone felt at losing Overwatch — the only thing that ever made sense — were only the beginning.

He knew she’d relent; she always did. Ana was reliable, deadly with a rifle, but loyal to a fault. When they’d crossed paths again, when he’d been hunting down “The Ghost” he hadn’t expected someone he used to trust implicitly. They were shadows of their former selves.

Like the thing screaming in the other room.

“We can’t leave him like this, Ana.”

“So do what must be done, Jack.” Her tone was terse, her remaining eye blank, expression cold.

“I can’t. I..”

“Why not, Jack? Why can’t you put that thing out of its misery?”

Because he didn’t have it in him to kill the man he once loved a second time. The anguish, the pain it had put him through, he wouldn’t survive it a second time. If there was even an ounce of hope for the creature in the next room, he would take it. Maybe it was a pipe dream, maybe he didn’t know what he was thinking. But they had him, they were capable of helping him, even if only to fail at the end. At least he could say he _tried_.

“Every life deserves a second chance. You thought I did.”

She smiled, old and worn at the edges. “I still believe you do.” A small, frail hand reached out to clasp on his shoulder, her hunched frame straightening enough to wrap an arm around his neck. Jack dropped his rifle, the strap slinging it back behind him as he wrapped both of his own arms around her thin frame.

“Thank you,” he whispered, muffled by his mask.

“Anything for you, dear.” She soothed.

When they parted, Jack turned to the locked door he’d been guarding. He’d been waiting for Ana, waiting for the support he so desperately wanted and hadn’t even known.

“You need to go in there by yourself?”

He nodded. It was best to start with just himself and the creature. To try and appease some unconscious memory. Whatever was in there, whatever waited for him, Ana said she’d be there to help along the way. If at the end they had to kill it.. Jack knew Ana would if he couldn’t.

He _wouldn’t_.

A grasp of the handle, a deep breath inhaled through the mask, and he entered the room. The door clicked shut behind him, latch turning to give him the space and privacy he would need to steel himself for moments to come.


End file.
